He seemed to be thinking hard. “I love you, you know. “In fact, yes, I do. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. I've delivered Jack Sheppard from many an assault. In a voice husky with suppressed despair, she answered. The life of a girl presented itself to her as something happy and heedless and unthinking, yet really guided and controlled by others, and going on amidst unsuspected screens and concealments. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page.
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